


Over watch + Quarantine Bubble

by starrylizard



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Jack Lives, Jack is such a dad, Mentions of Covid, comfort tv watching, quarantine bubble fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28995294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylizard/pseuds/starrylizard
Summary: Jack, Mac, Riley and Bozer are quarantining together. Jack senses things aren't so great with his housemates and does what only Jack can.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 43





	Over watch + Quarantine Bubble

**Author's Note:**

> In a universe where Jack never left. Basically, a fluffy comfort fic, but because of the setting, it is a bit angsty and mentions of covid obviously.  
> This is flashfic. No beta, quickly written, then posted.

One thing this iso-bubble didn’t do, Jack thought, was promote healthy sleep patterns. Not that the individuals in this particular bubble had ever really had healthy sleep habits to begin with, but now there wasn’t any real excuse for it. 

Jack had mastered sleeping anywhere, anytime, when he was still a raw recruit in the army. He had the techniques to fall back on. And yet . . . right now, he couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to. Deep down in his gut, he knew that it wasn’t an inability to sleep that kept him awake tonight, though.

Jack was on watch.

He was used to waiting patiently, eyes and ears open no matter the discomfort of his situation, his entire focus trained on keeping his team safe. Tonight, despite the comfortable cushions of Mac’s couch beneath him, the softness of his oldest sweatpants and his second favourite Metallica t-shirt, he was in that same headspace.

Waiting. Watching. Listening.

He trusted his instincts.

Jack sat in the dark.

Yeah, Jack had learnt the value of downtime, of waiting, of time to rest and self-reflect . . . but this was something else.

As much as he didn’t want to let it show, as much as he had cocooned himself in a place with his favourite people and tried to focus on the good in that, even Jack was going more than a little stir crazy after five months of living with no real objective. No way to make a difference out there.

But today he’d felt his team, his family, flagging more than usual. Nothing specific, but it was there, setting his senses tingling. A dark mood that made his stomach flutter with anxiety.

He could hear Mac plucking discordant notes somewhere on his ukulele. Sometimes Jack joined him, singing or playing guitar, but tonight. It would have been unwelcome.

Bozer was singing softly in the shower down the hall. Jack couldn’t make out the lyrics against the white noise of the water, but it had an old gospel feel and the tune sounded familiar. It took Jack a moment to place it, realising he probably never knew the words. It was the same tune Mac used to hum in the barracks when they first met, hummed it without realising he was doing so whenever he was in need of something comforting.

It was a tell Jack had realised pretty early on and one that had helped him match his motions to what Mac required before they’d really got to know each other well. Jack had asked one night, when they were nearing the end of their tour, and Mac had quietly confided that Bozer’s mom would hold them and sing that song whenever one of them was sad.

It was Riley who appeared first. Her bare feet almost silent on the flooring, her hair extra wild against the moonlight. She was wearing Jack’s old Rolling Stones t-shirt and some comfy exercise pants and she moved almost as if sleepwalking, eyes sad and downcast, as she bee-lined to the couch and collapsed into Jack’s side like her strings had been cut, like she’d known he’d be there.

Jack already had his arm out, ready to curl her into his side. They rocked, then settled, Riley’s hair tickling Jack’s face pleasantly, his nose suddenly filled with the fruity scent of her shampoo. She sniffled and curled in closer.

“I got you, pumpkin.” Jack’s voice was low and gentle. He held Riley close, and used his free hand to tuck some of her hair behind her ears, landed a gentle forehead kiss before leaning in to rest his chin on the top of her head. “Jack’s got you,” he repeated, then waited.

“It’s all so heavy, Jack. I had to turn the newsfeeds off on my rig. The numbers just keep coming in. It’s hard to even put it into context. And now Bozer’s mom.” Riley sniffed again. “I’m sorry, Jack.”

“Hey, sugar, we’re all feeling it. Let it out.” Jack’s accent got a little thicker than usual as he couldn’t help but swallow against the overwhelming sadness that he could only try to ease, but no way to stop. His particular skillset didn’t work against a virus or a year or general stupidity . . .

Riley nodded, wiping warm tears against his soft t-shirt. “Can we . . . watch Die Hard again? The first one.”

“Yeah,” and Jack could barely keep the pride outta his voice. “Sounds perfect. Little comfort TV, we can get some snacks.”

He was just fiddling with his cell phone, cuing up the movie for Chromecast when Mac slipped into the room. The ukulele strumming had paused a little after Riley landed on the couch, and Jack was pretty sure he’d been standing in the hall for a while, listening, waiting long enough not to feel like he was intruding.

“What you doing, Mac?” Jack asked.

“Just, trying to write a song about Fauci, but it feels a bit . . .” Mac petered out, wrapped his flannel shirt tighter around him despite the warmth of the night.

“Hopeless?” Riley supplied gently.

“Yeah,” Mac’s voice choked a little and Jack waved his free arm, patted the couch cushion on his other side.

“Bring it in, kiddo,” Jack murmured.

It was telling. On any normal night there’d be some reluctance, Mac’s need for space and appearances warring with his need for comfort. But tonight, he just slunk forward like a moody teenager and melted into the couch. Mac sighed deeply and then leaned over until his head rested on Jack’s shoulder, almost like it was an accident. Jack handed his phone to Riley, who quickly cued up the movie, as Jack used his now not-so-free right arm to haul Mac in closer instead.

“I don’t understand why people don’t listen to the science, Jack.” Mac’s voice was so quiet, it was only audible because Mac’s mouth was so close to Jack’s ear.

“You can lead a person to knowledge, but you can’t make them think, kid.”

“Jack? That’s, almost deep,” Mac’s voice tried to sound teasing and Jack squeezed Mac in close enough to make his breath wheeze in retaliation.

“Hey, don’t get cocky,” Jack chuckled. “Fight enough wars you didn’t start and you learn a bit about human nature.” Mac huffed out an acknowledgment, but didn’t offer to move out of Jack’s grasp. “It will end though,” Jack added. “There’s always a way through eventually. Humans are like that too. Inventive. Tenacious. You’re both proof of that.”

They fell comfortably silent.

The opening credits of Die Hard had just begun to roll, when the sound of pots and cupboards in the kitchen made its way to them. Shortly after, there was the smells and sounds of coffee brewing and fresh popcorn popping. The movie paused, Jack presumed by Riley’s doing, and soon enough Bozer was there, popcorn and coffee pot offerings in hand, empty mugs somehow dangling from his long fingers.

“I heard Die Hard starting,” he said, shrugging slightly, gently rocking from foot to foot. “Room for one more?”

“Popcorn!”

“Coffee!”

“Get in here, Bozer!”

Bozer placed his bounty on the coffee table and slid in between it and the couch, somehow leaning against all three of his friends. Mac and Riley both reached down to squeeze a shoulder once he was settled and Bozer leaned into their legs even more heavily with a sad, yet content, little sigh.

The movie started, they joked and parroted along with the script. And Jack shifted comfortably, wrapped in the warmth of his favourite people, offering comfort and protection the only way he could right now. With a touch or a laugh or a painfully bad joke.

Waiting. Listening. Watching.

As the mood lightened for the moment.

And Jack maintained his watch.


End file.
